


Stormy Hills

by Yuilhan



Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: F/M, Gen, Inspired by Arashi ga Oka, Inspired by Wuthering Heights, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuilhan/pseuds/Yuilhan
Summary: The distinct irrationality that love drove people to, the delirium of happiness that kept her subservient. Kyoko couldn't- wouldn't allow herself to go back to that. However, it appeared she had no choice but to if she wanted to keep her job.





	1. Kinu

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Full credit goes to Nakamura Yoshiki, the creator of Skip Beat, Emily Bronte's Wuthering Height's, and Yoshishige Yoshida's Arashi ga Oka. A full bibliography of works cited will be included with Chapter 10. The only thing I own is the character O'Hara Cho (an OC).
> 
> My thanks to the wonderful OnePlotThickens on FanFiction.net for their help Beta-ing this story.They've helped to give it a finesse I couldn't achieve by myself.
> 
> !Completely disregards the 'Dangerous Mission' Arc!

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**1| Kinu**

* * *

Kyoko Mogami was once again stumped by the things life threw at her.

She been mobbed by the flash of the paparazzi that morning, the camera men and women gathered outside of the entrance to LME's headquarters as she made her way inside. They had yelled and cajoled her with cries of 'Mio!' and 'Natsu!' as she ploughed her way unsuccessfully though them, dizzied by the vibrant flashes. Eventually, a security guard manning the main doors worked his way through the frenzied paparazzi and pulled her past the entrance to safety. This was of course after the camera men and women had frazzled her hair, rumpled her clothing, possibly blinded her, and tugged her every which way selfishly between them as though they had been siblings squabbling over a new toy.

However, this incident was not the only issue she would encounter on this day.

Worse for wear, she had seated herself in the LoveMe staffroom while contemplating, and in her hand, she held a script. This time, it was not for a minor role, or a supporting role in a serialised drama. It wasn't even a brief for a role in a promotional video or a commercial.

It was a legitimate movie script.

And the directors had picked her to be the leading lady.

This was the crux of Kyoko's problem. While she was flattered to be offered such a role, in her own opinion there were far more talented actresses who could play the part better. Kotonami Kanae, for one, would most likely embody the figure that the character of Kinu evoked in Kyoko's mind. From what she had read so far, Kinu was delicate, gentle, beautiful, ladylike.

Kyoko shook her head wildly to clear the dangerous tempting thoughts away. It would do her no good to dream of playing such a role until she'd earned it. Still, from what she had read so far into the script, Stormy Hills was a torrid tale of two star crossed lovers who were isolated from one another, but fought to battle through the obstructions keeping them apart. It would also do Kyoko no good to agree to a role in which she could not commit herself wholeheartedly.

She placed her hand contemplatively over her heart. Kinu had absolute confidence in her affections. Kyoko? Not so much. Her heart couldn't– no, she wouldn't let it pulse with such vibrant, uncontrollable emotion ever again. How could she accept the role of Kinu if she couldn't portray it justly?

It was simple.

She could not.

But the offer was incredibly tempting. The directors had assured her that without her name on the cast list, the movie may well be considered a flop before they'd even begun filming. Well, one of the directors had said as much. Ogata Hiroaki, who Kyoko had worked under in Dark Moon, had begun work on Stormy Hills shortly after they'd wrapped the last episode of the drama remake. He'd been secretly chipping away at the script with his co-director– who had yet to be revealed, unfortunately– and had approached Kyoko and some other actors with a working script. Should the roles be cast convincingly and the new project pitched to sponsors, it was likely the film would be accepted. Considering that this was an ambitious project, despite Ogata's success with Dark Moon, there would be little turnaround and budget. Therefore, the more groundwork both directors laid now, the sooner they could begin shooting after sets, costumes and staff were all arranged.

Kyoko didn't want to turn down the role. She really didn't. Hizuri K—, Kyoko violently shook her head again and corrected herself. Otou-san had scolded her about turning down roles, and she still felt the sting of ungratefulness when she considered how much she had grown through becoming Natsu. Would she be the same today if she had said no to her role in Box-R? Definitely not; and that was why she was so carefully deliberating over Stormy Hills.

Could she really allow the chest she had locked her heart away in to be breached by Kinu's desire and obsession?

She wasn't sure.

Kyoko felt very lost at that moment. Dark Moon was well passed filming and airing, and there had been talks of a DVD and Blu-Ray release appearing on store shelves and internet shopping sites soon. Box-R would surely follow suit, as Kyoko only had a few more sessions on set before filming and pick-ups wrapped. She would surely need something in between to work on, unless she was pushed into other available choices- yet none had arisen. Not even one audition, which at that point she would gladly put herself forward for. Still, Stormy Hills loomed over her. She flicked through the script's pages idly once more.

Kyoko sighed, again. Drug her fingers through her cropped hair and hung her head miserably. Her aura darkened as she moped. She contemplated ringing Moko-san, or even Tsuruga-san, but whenever her eyes glanced to the script- now set on her lap, her hand would still its hesitant reaching motion.

She supposed that she could nail Kinu's character. Kinu was an elegant young lady, raised in a reserved and severe environment. The weather oppressing the mountain-side estate, in which she, her father, brother, step-sibling and a select few servants lived, was volatile. The family line was steeped in tradition; a strong connection to the mountain spirits ensured that the men of the family never left the highlands. Only the women were delivered in their early womanhood to a local temple's doorstep, where they would train as priestesses and never return to their home.

Tradition, poise, submission.

These were three qualities that Kyoko could embody perfectly, though she was chagrined to acknowledge it. Her teeth ground together as unwanted memories of her childhood flashed through her thoughts.

Perhaps the directors would be lenient if she couldn't quite get Kinu's passion and desire across on screen just yet. After all, she had helped Tsuruga-san through his love troubles as Katsuki, and more privately as Bo. What was there to stop her from spending a little more time investing in emotions (both Kinu's and her own) that Kyoko could no longer understand? What if she could convey them convincingly without getting herself hurt again?

Perhaps she should have decided against doing this. Perhaps her sempai, her colleagues and her superiors would know she wasn't giving her role one hundred percent unlike other characters she had born into the world. Interestingly though, Kyoko decided not to fret on the consequences yet. Kyoko's inner demons preened themselves with the glint of pure mischief running through her.

She was an actress after all, and acting was what she did best. If she could lose herself in characters, she could convince herself that she was a whole, pure, human being- untainted by heartbreak and neglect. Instead of wearing one mask as she stepped on to the set, this time she would be wearing two.


	2. O'Hara

 

 

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**2| O'Hara**

* * *

Kyoko had raced upstairs shortly after her epiphany. There had been conflicting thoughts racing through her mind even as she spoke to Sawara-san about the offer. A tiny, illusionary Tusruga-san whispered of how disappointed he was of her duplicitous actions, while another- this time her Otou-san– affirmed that he was proud she had committed to the job, if in a somewhat skewed way. She decided that this time she would take Otou-san's advice over Japan's number one actor's, though she wasn't resolutely sure that she should have just listened to them both instead.

Now, she was sat in a nondescript LME boardroom surrounded by fellow actors, the directors, and a few of the costume and makeup department. Director Ogata had welcomed her warmly to the then empty room, ushering her close to the head of the table in the centre of the meeting space before the large drop down projector screen. Kyoko had been incredibly early, having already been helping various departments in her LoveMe gear, so the two chatted while other cast and crew members arrived. The staff from costume, hair and makeup were the next to file in, as were a few supporting-role actors.

They had been scheduled to begin talks at ten that morning. It was now edging ever closer to eleven, and they were all beginning to feel a little restless. Small talk had been eliminated with the first twenty minutes of waiting, as had the complimentary water jugs and fresh fruit displayed in the centre of the board room table. Longer conversations waned. Kyoko had flicked through her script maniacally once more while Director Ogata anxiously checked his wristwatch.

Ogata winced sympathetically as irritated whispers and hushed conversation filled the room; "I am very sorry for this. Usually Director-"

"Sorry we're late. I got lost carrying this giant box halfway around the office spaces. Luckily, I bumped into Kijima-san on my second tour of the lobby." A voice announced from behind a comically large carboard box. They tottered into the room on conservatively low heeled shoes, struggling to get the box past the doorframe. Kijima Hidehito, from the Akatoki Agency, sheepishly followed and closed the door behind him. He slipped into an empty seat across the table from Kyoko; nodding to her in greeting.

"As I was saying," Ogata continued timidly, "Director O'Hara is never usually late, extenuating circumstances aside."

"O'Hara Cho," the voice behind the box introduced herself with slightly accented Japanese. Their heavy load was dumped on the table top, causing the now empty water jug and fruit bowls to rattle. A tiny, vibrantly redhaired woman waved to them all, before bowing deeply in respect. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope we can all work well together- and before you ask, my father was Irish and I'm half Japanese."

Director O'Hara opened her giant carboard box, standing on tip toe as she delved inside, ignoring the curious whispers. Why her heritage was a qualm for them, those collected in the meeting room couldn't be sure; they politely tucked that piece of information away.

"I'm really glad you could all make it here this morning," She said, pulling heavy stacks of books from the box.

"As am I," Ogata chimed. "You may already know that this project is titled 'Stormy Hills', but we have gathered here to further elaborate on the project."

O'Hara divided the piles into smaller stacks and slid them to the person sat at each corner of the long edge of the table. "If you could take one of these and pass the pile along, I would be most obliged."

They all did so, and Kyoko ran her fingers along the spine and cover of the new text, which lay beside her script on the table top. The title and author were displayed in English on the front, and she suspected the entire novel was too. A bleak landscape depicted on the cover drew her in; through the swirling white and grey mist she could discern the blackened figure of a lonely house atop a hill. A weathered tree curled into and over the wall fencing the property away from the outside world.

"You may know that 'Wuthering Heights' is an incredibly popular and highly regarded classic text in England. Countless attempts to adapt the story have been made, but the text is so rich and sporadic that one cannot possibly include it all in an adaption," O'Hara drummed her fingers lightly on the cover of her own book. It had not been pulled from the carboard box, unlike the others, but from a small fashionable satchel slung across her body. The cover was worn, the spine cracked, and Kyoko could see the discolouration of the dog-eared pages from where she was sat. O'Hara's copy of the novel was well loved and read within an inch of its life. The implied passion the Director was obviously imbuing into Stormy Hills made Kyoko want to squirm.

"That being said," Director Ogata interjected softly, "I've gained a bit of a reputation for re-doing old, incredibly popular dramas, and when O'Hara-san approached me with this project- a re-interpretation of 'Wuthering Heights' loosely inspired by the movie 'Arashi Ga Oka', I couldn't help myself."

A few gasps rung through the room. Like with Tsukikomori and Dark Moon, one did not take on a project to upstage the earlier success of a film or drama lightly. The final result of a re-make had to be of a higher calibre than the original, or so entrancing that one wouldn't mind the obvious differences and limitations. Unknown to Kyoko, Akira Kurosawa had successfully adapted western texts to Japanese settings and film many years before her birth and rise into showbiz. He was the main example to follow and upstage. Yoshishige Yoshida's Arashi ga Oka had also been a big hit, though the young talent was not to know this. The other members of the meeting clearly thought both Director's insane though. O'Hara and Ogata were suggesting they do the very same as some famous directors before them, but with the influence of both a prior Japanese and English example and forgoing a solid interpretation of either.

O'Hara sucked in a breath, "We do want to make some changes though."

"'Wuthering Heights' is set within the eighteenth century, and 'Arashi ga Oka' the medieval era of our history," Director Ogata informed them gently. "While O'Hara-san was writing the script, we both felt that we should set the time frame within the later period of the Tokugawa Shogunate, perhaps even the late eighteenth-century. There are things we wish to keep from the original film, yet we wish to include the visceral graphic quality from 'Wuthering Heights' also."

"Beyond Cathy and Heathcliff- Kinu and Onimaru's difference in social standing, class and the laws of their world, we wished to make it clear that they are battling for a relationship. It transcends further than just their love for one another into simply being able to possess one another in a strict political climate," Director O'Hara sadly caressed the spine of her well-read book. "This is a period of fledgling modernity, yet still steeped in tradition and superstition. Our attempts to bring western and native together is difficult, and both of us ask of you to read the script and the novel analytically."

"Bring anything you can, any ideas at all on characters, settings, costumes; your input is welcome." Ogata bowed his head.

They would need it. With such a risky project came a small budget. It was likely that they would all have to chip in at some point with their insight or skills due to being short-staffed. Kyoko felt a rock settle in her stomach. The heavy weight stopped her from squirming uneasily, but it also held her down guiltily. Should she fail to embody a perfect Kinu, not only the livelihoods of the gathered actors, actresses and staff would be on the line, but the reputations of Directors Ogata and O'Hara too.

There and then, Kyoko felt a nervous, chilling sweat bead on the back of her neck.

 


	3. Onimaru

  

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**3| Onimaru**

* * *

"Director Ohara?"

"O'Hara," the woman corrected, and Hidehito Kijima balked slightly; he continued to mistakenly call her for the Japanese district, rather than the European pronunciation of her surname. "If it gets too much for you, why don't you just call me Cho, Kijima-san?"

He laughed rakishly, knowing that she knew he had no idea how to differentiate Ohara from O'Hara.

"Did you have a question for me?" She prodded, her attention focused on the set-dressers as they readied for the next scene.

"Yes," He answered. "I was just wondering why Kyoko-san was cast as Kinu. I mean, she's a brilliant actress for someone so young, but as far as I know she's never been cast as a romantic lead."

O'Hara snorted. "I don't get it either, but Hiroaki swears by her."

They turned to a shadowed part of the set where Kyoko had sequestered herself. They had only been filming simple scenes so far; quiet sweeping shots of movement, simple dialogue between the family of characters. None of the distinct magnetism between Kinu and Onimaru had been broached as of yet. Kyoko had taken it into her stride. As soon as the costume, hair and makeup crews finished with her and she was pushed out towards the set, a mist descended. She grew taller, lither, and more gentle. There was a quiet rapaciousness to how Kinu eyed Onimaru in the scant few scenes they shared together in the beginning act; for Hidehito, it astounded and disturbed him. He'd acted with Tsuruga Ren before. Then, and only then, did he feel as though he had been goaded, just as Kyoko's Kinu had pushed him so far.

He felt the need to up himself; to have his portrayal of Onimaru become rougher, undignified and feral. Onimaru embodied everything Kinu was not, yet somehow the pair complimented one another.

Onimaru was also everything Kijima Hidehito was not. And for good reason, he thought wryly as he pictured the fan polls he rated highly on every time.

"Did you have a major concern, or are we idly discussing Hiroaki's obsession with his muse?" O'Hara drawled as she curled her own copy of the Stormy Hills script into a tube with her hands.

"No, no. I just-" Did he have a concern? He wouldn't have mentioned something otherwise, would he? "It's just, Kyoko is very young. Whenever I've had chance to speak with her, she never struck me as someone worldly, y'know? I have a feeling she doesn't know what she's in for, I guess. Does that make any sense?"

"No," O'Hara replied, raising her eyebrows as though to ask him to elaborate.

Hidehito shifted his gaze to where Kyoko sat, preparing for the next scene. The teenager was worlds away from reality, her eyes donning the shining glaze he had witnessed on the Dark Moon set whenever an idealistic flight of fantasy struck her. A loose smile tugged at her rouged lips, painted red like the fine elaborate patterned kimono Kinu wore for this scene.

It would be the scene where she took her mirror into the yard, shining it at Onimaru as he toiled in his hut.

It would also be the scene where Kinu and Onimaru's curiosity of each other tripled.

They had been told that no child actors had been cast to fill the roles of the younger Onimaru and Kinu, so it would be down to them- Kyoko and he that is, to bridge that gap. There simply wasn't a budget for another two on the payroll, yet clever ticks of lighting, makeup, costuming and acting skill could pass two grown actors as young ones given the circumstances.

There were, of course, obvious limitations for this. Hidehito Kijima couldn't pass for an incredibly young child, but by altering his posture, cutting back on what he ate, and sacrificing some exercises that kept his muscles defined for a while, he could body could fool anyone into thinking he was an awkward, scrawny teenager again.

Director O'Hara looked at him sceptically.

Hidehito flushed slightly; "I mean, she's very naïve. Do you think she can act out physical… sensuality?"

"I take it you've read the novel then?" Usually, he would have nodded to save face. This time however, Hidehito had been curious as to the novel's importance, having seen Arashi ga Oka before. "Kyoko-san strikes me as a competent actress so far. She's of age and willing to act this role, but should she struggle with later scenes, I'm sure there are ways we can educate and encourage her. If anything, you seem more concerned about this than her."

With that, O'Hara was called away by a member of the camera crew, and she joined her fellow director in a tense discussion of budget lenses and low grade equipment. The budget had not stretched as far as they had hoped.

Hidehito stood, lost for a moment. They hadn't had a call to the set as of yet, and everyone else seemed so busy. To stop them and to ask them to indulge him in conversation would be rude. As would be leaving the studio to liberate his mobile phone from the tiny dressing room he had been allotted.

By dressing room, he meant small cubicle, bet hey, he'd worked with less before. Not everyone lived the high life from the get go.

Instead he wandered over to Kyoko. The scratchy rags of cloth the clothing department had woven and sewn together to form a tunic of sorts, rustled and itched at his skin. A vest of faux fur covered his slouching back and shoulders. The long, frizzy wig, copious amounts of makeup, and some complexion deepening fake tan had transformed him from the refined and playful Hidehito Kijima into the brutish Onimaru.

Kyoko appeared startled by his appearance, the porcelain mask of the silken Kinu slipping as she took him in.

"Kijima-san!" She exclaimed buoyantly. "The costume people do a really good job with so little resources, you look very convincing."

"As do you," he replied playfully, though the compliment flew far over Kyoko's head. "Are you prepared for this scene then?"

Beside her on another folding chair, one of many that had been dotted about in the studio around the set, lay her script and her copy of the novel. The covers were kept clean, but the pages were no doubt poured over and worn from the constant turn of fingers. Kyoko wasn't one to dog-ear her pages, but helpful notes and memos could be found in the margins and scribbled over certain passages. Hidehito supposed this helped her tremendously while creating her characters. Beyond that lay a small misshaped oval of glass. The prop's team had scoured thrift stores around Tokyo for second hand mirrors they could cut and fob as an antique to fit the part of the gift Kinu's father gives to her.

"Mm," Kyoko hummed. "I think so. It's quite an important sequence today, right? It would be wrong to say I wasn't nervous at all. Thankfully Kijima-san is more experienced than I, and I would be grateful for any guidance you could give me."

She had to be playing with him, right?

Sure, he had more years on her as an actor, but she had more raw talent within her to completely outstrip his whole career. Kijima felt irritation surface within him, the likes of which he felt around Kyoko's precious 'Tsuruga-sempai'.

His eyes narrowed with caution instinctively; "Certainly, Kyoko-san."

To her confusion, he stalked away pettily. Should she choose to play this game with him, he certainly wouldn't encourage her nor offer himself up as a marionette. This time, Hidehito Kijima would fight the urge to submit.

Onimaru was wild, and free, and strong.

Hidehito would be too.

Nothing Kinu or Kyoko could do would be able to stop him once he got started, and poor Kyoko had no idea of the events she had unknowingly catalysed that would soon follow.

 


	4. Duel

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**4| Duel**

* * *

They were now filming one incredibly long sequence. The surrounding set had been created to look like a scruffy courtyard, mainly used by the servants though hogged by Kinu and her brother when they were younger and sent out to play in the rare sunshine. The camera would roll, and out of view (behind some false walls made to look like the edges of storehouses and servant's quarters), Hidehito and Kyoko entered and exited the set.

Each pass they made of one another would become less elaborate as the scene progressed. No words would be exchanged, only looks and the messages their bodies portrayed as they progressed from adolescents to the sparking of Kinu and Onimaru's relationship.

Surprisingly few sets were used. The pieces the teams of creators had made from cheap materials could be reworked into other scenes; disguised or altered under a different lighting rig. The indoor sets were just as limited, mainly revolving around three established places. The rest, again, could be winged with interchangeable shoji panels to give the illusion of a home's infrastructure.

The clapperboard clacked together, and the scene began:

_Kinu crouched in the dirt outside of his hut, angling the mirror just so. A small beam of light reflected and hit him in the eye._

_The camera zoomed in to capture Onimaru's irritation, and how he grunted before hunching down over whatever it was he had been working on._

_The annoying beam of light bounced off the mirror again, this time hitting his cheekbones. Onimaru stalked out his hut, intent on stopping on whoever it was purposefully teasing him. Kinu looked up in shock as he stomped towards her, his bare feet raising small clouds of dust as he shambled closer._

_Onimaru's expression could be likened to that of a gathering storm as he leant over Kinu, plucking the small oval-shaped mirror from the young Lady's hands. His lip curled, and he straightened again- towering above her. Kinu fell from her crouch onto her posterior, getting dust on the back of her kimono._

_Kinu pouted, her petulance becoming on her elfish features. Even at such a young age, she had been primped by her maid, and the puckering red lips appeared angry and raw, even if her demeaner wavered only slightly from placid._

_She stretched out her hand impatiently. Onimaru deliberated whether she wished to be helped from the ground, or whether she wished for her trinket to be returned._

_It was at that moment they were interrupted._

_Kinu's brother, Hidemaru, pompously put himself between his sister and Onimaru; puffing out his little lordly chest like the ruffled feathers on a bird's breast. He reached to aid Kinu while his eyes locked with Onimaru's. The pair stared at one another, quietly getting the measure of each other. A gaggle of servants watched nervously from a distance, unsure as to whether they should intervene._

_Onimaru's lips pulled back in a mock snarl as Hidemaru sneered._

_Kinu slapped Hidemaru's hand away, lifted herself from the ground with as much dignity as she could muster and allowed herself to be whisked away by her maid._

_Hidemaru and Onimaru battled discreetly against one another. The young Lord conceded first, his sneer giving way to a knowing smirk as he noticed the small mirror engulfed in Onimaru's hands._

This would be the pick-up crew's time to film an extra scene for the Director's to play about with, showing Onimaru's punishment, dealt out by Hidemaru, for supposedly taking his sister's possession. As it stood, the only way the audience- who weren't privy to this extra scene unless the bought the pending extended editions of the film some length of time after it had aired on television, would know that Hidemaru had punished Onimaru at all would be when Kinu and Onimaru passed each other in the restrictive courtyard. Kinu was aghast as Onimaru resisted the touch of one the servants as she treated the severe lash marks on his back.

Hidehito had sat in makeup while they applied the long gashes moulded from latex onto his back, dabbing it gently with makeup similar to his own skin tone. The blood would hastily be applied in the wings while he waited for the next time he had to walk past Kinu as Onimaru.

_In the end though Kinu's horror served to spur him on into leaving quicker; Onimaru would hastily escape offset behind one of the removable walls before Kinu or the servant could stop him, and a reluctant Kinu would go about her way, the sight of the gashes never quite leaving her mind._

_They would pass each other frequently, stealing inquisitive glances at each other._

_The highborn Lady and the orphaned urchin her father kindly took under his wing. The nobody that her father had named, and welcomed into their home. She had grown to see past the boy's roughened, perpetually angry expression to the quiet, understanding soul that lay underneath._

_Onimaru was more at one with the sacred mountain they lived on that her own brother, the latter of whom was destined to inherit their father's mantle._

_The looks the two shared as they passed each other spanned from their late childhood to their adolescence. They grew ever friendly, ever closer. Onimaru was older, wiser in a way that her brother's education could not prepare someone for. Onimaru knew things, could protect her, would allow her to confide in him. Perhaps it was wrong to indulge her tenuous friendship with him, but Kinu found herself slipping away from propriety everytime she caught the way he had begun to look at her._

_To him, she wasn't a strip of silk that could be sold off to the highest bidder, nor something so precious it had to be preserved behind temple walls or embroidered to enhance its beauty._

_She was Kinu._

_She was free._

_When she was old enough, she would be his._

_Blood lay between them._

_Kinu knew she was younger than him, and lesser developed than the women that served in their home. She knew of the rites her father adhered too. Female family members who did not marry in to bear a child, must be married or sent to the local temple to serve as soon as their moon cycles began._

_The first time it happened, her maid all but dragged her to a hut outside of the main house. The very same structure had brought she and Hidemaru into the world, as their mother confined herself there during her labouring periods. The maid locked her inside, and bid her goodnight. Onimaru had watched, seeing Kinu's eyes wide with fear as she desperately fought against the maid's hold. She would remain inside until her cycle ended, miserable, alone and hurting for as long as it took only infrequent intervals for food._

_Frightened and alone, Kinu cried out for anyone to come and help her as the sun finally set and a chill seeped through the stone walls._

_No one came._

_The next time she bled… she would be gone._

The clapperboard sounded again, and applause filled the set.

 


	5. Masks

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**5| Masks**

* * *

"That was amazing, the pair of you!" Director O'Hara squealed, flinging herself on set to embrace the two actors. It was as though she had forgotten a third actor had been with them at the time.

Director Ogata's face was flushed, and he swiped at his eyes for rogue tears; "I was mistaken in believing your Mio to be intense, Kyoko-san… But I-I have never seen the likes of this before."

The actors were guided from the set as the staff rushed in to prepare it for the next scene. Each were handed a water bottle, and offered a place to sit as the makeup team muscled their way through the applauding staff to make any needed adjustments.

Kijima-san had offered no congratulations on the scene, merely took the offered water bottle, sat in an empty seat, and closed his eyes. The makeup artist assigned to him converged, patting him down with a mixture of powder and bronzer to create the tanned, semi-dirty contours on Onimaru's face.

Kyoko's heart fluttered unsurely. The box rattled threateningly in her chest, wishing itself to be unlocked. It took everything she had, every scrap of hatred to control it. She placed her hands over her heart, feeling the unsteady pull of feelings try to demolish the security of blissful ignorance she had wrapped herself in after him.

Never- not in all the times that Tsuruga-san had rattled her defences, or Sho had shown up to ruin her life again, had she felt to rattled.

Why now?

Why Onimaru?

_Why Hidehito Kijima of all people?!_

He'd responded to her acting as though it were a challenge. If Kinu was ice, then Onimaru was fire, and the dance the two performed around one another was deadly. Kijima-san had baited her, and she- Kinu, had responded in full. Yet he didn't seem affected at all by it.

Kinu had controlled the smouldering, beseeching looks, the gentle sway of her hips while she took dainty steps from one side of the set to the other. The resignation on her features as she grew into a young woman, the attraction she felt towards Kijima-san's convincing Onimaru; it was all controlled by Kinu, and not Kyoko.

Kyoko's façade was beginning to crumble.

How could she willingly submit herself to this, knowing full well that she couldn't control Kinu or the lock on her heart at the same time? How could she at this point abandon the project, all because of her silly restraint failing? How could she allow Kinu to wrestle control out of her hands?! Not even Natsu or Mio could do such a thing!

This would only lead to disaster, just as her blindly dogging Sho's footsteps had been Kyoko Mogami's undoing. A stronger, resistant Kyoko had emerged from the rubble of her broken heart, but she was not infallible. Unspeakable things could pour out of the mythical Pandora's Box all people were said to hold within them. Kyoko's had been located where her heart lay, and had unleashed her grudges. In turn, she placed her heart inside the forbidden chest and vowed no one would convince her to open it again.

She was prey to Tsuruga-san occasionally. She could feel the locks on the chest weakening each time she acted across from him.

A disarming, genteel smile from her male co-workers could sometimes send her into a flutter. Usually at that point, Natsu or Mio would rise to the surface to save her. Natsu loved to toy with emotions, and Kyoko knew Mio's aura was enough to dissuade anyone's advances.

Strangely, even Sho elicited some feeling from her heart of stone. Not that she would admit that, of course.

The fact remained that she was scared of ever feeling herself letting go of the hold on her emotions. The distinct irrationality that love drove people to, the delirium of happiness that kept her subservient. Kyoko couldn't- wouldn't allow herself to go back to that. Love would tie a slackened noose around her that would gradually tighten the more engrossed she became- and it was something she feared she would never escape again.

However, it appeared she had no choice but to if she wanted to keep her job.

Kyoko knew she was tenacious, and sometimes her tact could use a little finesse. She wouldn't shy away from confronting whatever it was standing in her way, something that Director Lory knew and took advantage of when handing out LoveME assignments like Christmas presents.

Sadly, Kyoko sat beside Kijima on an available chair.

Just this once, she pleaded in her head to anyone who would listen. Just this once… give me the strength to feel without any remorse. Please, let me not get hurt again!

She wished she could talk to someone- _anyone!_

Perhaps after she had succeeded in her battle with Kinu, she would tell Tsuruga-san and Moko-san all about the filming experience. Then it would be too late for them to protest against it or persuade her into other projects. Otou-san kept in contact with Director Lory, and then everyone would know what she was trying to pull off. He might even feel ashamed of her sub-par reasoning for taking a role in Stormy Hills, just as she knew Tsuruga-san would be.

However, Kyoko felt compelled to see this through, for better or worse. Until then, there was one person she could turn to.

She had felt her Kinu react to him; not because of the predisposed connection the two shared, but because of the intensity Kijima had portrayed Onimaru with. Kinu had met her match, the pair had clashed and complimented, and were well on the road to their not-so-happy ending. It had been an equal effort from the two lead roles to act in that manner. It was a level of realness they would have to encapsulate throughout the duration of the whole film, and it was exhausting. Multiple takes where Onimaru and Kinu had to be lost in one another's presence, above of those surrounding them, would surely kill them if they couldn't get it right on the first go. NG's were something Kyoko wished to avoid anyway, but with this project it would have to be a necessity.

"Kijima-san?" Kyoko asked quietly.

He appeared to be in a better mood now than her had shortly after exiting the set; "Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could ask for some advice- for a friend!" Kyoko hurriedly added.

Hidehito stared at her incomprehensibly for what seemed to be an age. She held his gaze unwaveringly. He shook his head with a slight snort, screwing the cap firmly onto his water bottle.

"Tell me more about this friend of yours. What can I help her with- I assume it's a she?" He said, finally relenting to her. His angered had cooled after proving that, yes, he could act just as she did usually. It was more the fact that it was never required of him to do so before acting opposite of Kyoko and Ren- and the latter was still fiendishly difficult to match or better when it came to anything, let alone acting. For that, Kijima Hidehito was glad he was the darling actor and model of the Akatoki Agency, and not playing second fiddle to Tsuruga Ren at LME.

Then again, Tsuruga Ren was but a pretty face. Much like that Fuwa kid.

Kijima could attest that he had the skill to match his sex appeal. Neither was lacking either.

Thoughts of why Kyoko would approach him, and not her sempai, for help danced playfully across his mind. A coy smile tugged at his lips; Kyoko needed a real man's opinion, and she barely saw him enough to feel embarrassed over asking about something so personal.

"And more importantly," Hidehito continued, casually looping an arm around the back of Kyoko's chair; barely brushing her shoulders. "Why in all of Japan would she come to me for advice, when I'm certain there are more… wholesome, alternatives available?"

Within her, Kyoko felt Kinu stir. The persona was pleased that Onimaru would lend his ear to her, happiness bubbled inside of Kyoko- happiness that wasn't of her own making.

She quickly tried to push it down.

"My… f-friend," her face was bright red already, Hidehito noted with glee. "She's been hurt before by someone she was seeing."

Hidehito stilled; his previous anger and amusement washing away.

"N-not what you're thinking! He broke her heart," Kyoko exclaimed, shamefaced.

"Was it Tsuruga?" He managed to grind out in return through his gritted teeth. Kyoko shook her head solemnly. "Who?"

The reply was almost so inaudible that he had her repeat it several times before she finally cried 'Fuwa!', red-faced and flustered. The crew turned at her shout, and Kijima lazily waved off their concern.

"Explain," He commanded her. Kyoko was hesitant to begin explaining, but the stern, patient look her fixed her with had Kinu spilling her deepest darkest secrets and regrets before Kyoko could restrain her.

After some time, just before they were due back onto the set and after Hidehito had digested all that she had divulged to him in his mind, did he finally say something:

"Y'know," he began, helping her up from her chair with a gentlemanly extended arm. His lips quirked as she released his arm and smoothed the surface layer of her costume kimono, watching him balefully to gauge his reaction to her tale. "At first I thought you were propositioning me for sex."

Kyoko swayed on her feet.

"I'm surprised you're still uncomfortable with this," He continued, "After what comes later on in the script…"

Kyoko dislodged her arm from his, worried about what exactly came later in the script. She scanned the pages, feeling as though she had forgotten to glance over something. When she read the ominous stage directions for a certain scene- Hidehito peering over her shoulder and reading it aloud with a sly grin, she fainted dead away.

She'd missed one very important scene out, effectively repressing it from her memories for daydreams of the lady-like Kinu and beautiful costumes.

Except in this scene, she wouldn't be ladylike, nor in a beautiful tailored kimono.

She'd be naked, and so would Kijima-san.

 


	6. Revelations

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**6| Revelations**

* * *

Hidehito found that every time he left the set after completing a scene with Kyoko, a rush of adrenaline would be coursing through him. She was addictive to compete against; the subtle goading glint in her golden eyes, that he was sure she had no idea she was expressing, brought new revelations to him that not even the most attractive woman could.

Not that he wanted Kyoko. No. Definitely _not_.

Hidehito shook that thought away, willing himself not to seek the young actress out as she milled through the bustling costume, makeup and camera crews near the set. Kami, did he need a cigarette. Director Ogata was giving him knowing smiles every time they locked eyes across the set, and Hidehito wasn't sure how to process them.

It was just frightening how Kyoko could get him to behave that way. He wasn't sure whether he liked being manipulated like a marionette, or that he admired her more for unintentionally pushing him.

Director's O'Hara and Ogata, along with most of the staff, were enthralled by watching them act against one another. Having read the entirety of _Wuthering Heights_ , Hidehito could see why. They were acting like Cathy and Heathcliff. Pairing the two together was like deliberately pouring gasoline over an open flame. Kinu and Onimaru's own relationship was similar, but more restrained in _Arashi ga Oka_. The period in which the original film had been set dealt with a more superstitious population of Japan, in comparison to the Tokugawa age in which Stormy Hills had been adapted for. The gritty realism of O'Hara and Ogata's Kinu and Onimaru running through the streets of Edo, knowing that they were bound by law and tradition to be separated- it created a tension unachieved by the original film. The couple were desperate to battle against whatever held them back from one another; fighting tooth and nail like utter savages if need be. _Wuthering Height_ 's Cathy would be proud of the dignified, snarling and gnashing Kinu that Kyoko had created in the literary character's likeness.

The visceral brutality had remained throughout the remake, though tweaked slightly by the updated usage of camera and special effects techniques.

Kyoko and he were both learning more about each other through this project. He knew she became flustered over any mention of more-than-platonic interaction with the opposite sex. That Tsuruga was her esteemed sempai, and that the Fuwa brat was persona non-grata number one to her. She had told him of Kotonami 'Moko-San' Kanae, her best friend, and of little Takarada Maria, the granddaughter of the president of LME. Kyoko divulged her daily life to him, and he tried to respond similarly though found it difficult without the young actress flushing at his exploits. From them on, he mainly discussed prior work with her, or if she was feeling bold, his own relationships that had ended in disaster.

To his fascination, she seemed captivated by the fact that he could open his heart back up so easily after being rebuked for his caddish behaviour, rejected, or betrayed. Hidehito saw it as his being older and more mature, used to the trials and tribulations of romantic relationships and torrid affairs. Kyoko was just a fragile bud, waiting for springtime to come around before she bloomed. He knew that when she was finally ready to blossom, she would be magnificent. Her acting had already indicated as much. Her reactions to any mention of intimacy were delicious to watch, and delighted in teasing her during discussions they shared between takes.

There was only one major concern: Tsuruga Ren. Japan's number one actor had established himself as a mentor and general guard dog for Kyoko, and it would be increasingly difficult to reach her once Tsuruga obsessively took hold. Everyone but Tsuruga and Kyoko could see his obvious infatuation with the young talent, to the extent where Hidehito pitied Ren somewhat. One thing Hidehito could say that worked in his favour, was that despite his self-imposed titles and concerns over Kyoko's welfare Ren broadcasted to those around them, he wasn't Kyoko's friend.

Hidehito could work with that.

Between takes, getting ready in the makeup chairs and in the costume stalls, at script readings, meetings, and even as they finished filming for the evening, Hidehito would take the chance to just talk to her. Study her. Know her.

Unfortunately for the older actor, this was all it took for him to fall under Mogami Kyoko's spell. Kijima Hidehito was as helpless and Tsuruga Ren now.

* * *

"You have to have read the script fully before you agreed to play the part," Director O'Hara frowned as Director Ogata tried to console a weeping and wailing Kyoko.

"I thought she was a rich y-young laaaady-" Kyoko sniffled.

Director Ogata winced. Technically, Kinu was the role of the rich young lady that Kyoko coveted. She'd had her illusions shattered with Mio, and now again with Kinu; who happened to be a lot saucier and selfish a role than the young actress had anticipated.

"But- but-" Kyoko gestured to the page her script was open on, in which Onimaru and Kinu consummated the joining of their two souls.

"You can always pull out of the project if you're not comfortable, Kyoko-san," Ogata placated. "It is rather late, but we could always find someone else-"

"No- _please_ , I can- but-"

Director O'Hara huffed, running a hand through her auburn hair; "I don't see what all the fuss is about. You're not a minor right?"

"Yes?" Kyoko answered.

"Well then, you're old enough to commit to that scene. You've just got to work around your sense of modesty- lose yourself to your character, y'know? Hiroaki tells me you can do that excellently," O'Hara commended Kyoko.

A wide, brilliant smile lit up Kyoko's face; "You're right! I'm very good at creating characters."

Both directors nodded and were ushered away by various staff members.

_I can do this!_ Kyoko thought. A crew member brushed by her, rustling her costume; she had been given tape to place on her breasts so that the wig would hang their and cover the most of her chest. nothing could be done for her lower torso, except for Kyoko hoping that the yukata that she was wearing would slip to cover anything important. The young actress 'eeped' and hunched in on herself chastely.

_I take it back, I can't do this!_

* * *

_"I do not want to be a priestess. I want to live as a true woman," Kinu had said._

_"You must accept your fate," her attendant had replied._

_"How I regret being born a woman," Kinu returned softly, gazing into the oval shaped mirror she held in her palm. Onimaru had returned it what seemed like an age ago._

The camera angle changed, flicking to Kinu's wan complexion reflected in her small mirror. Her eyes watered with grief and anger, her lips pressed closed in silent resignation. She would suffer through this, as was expected of her. That did not mean she had to like it.

_Onimaru had professed that he would follow her to the capital when Kinu left. Her lips barely made a thin, bitter smile. She confessed that if that were possible, the worries that plagued her would lessen greatly. She knew however, that he could no sooner follow her as she could remain in her home. They lived on the outskirts of Edo, away from the filth and corruption, yet close enough that their father could travel there for important business. She would be devoured by the grainy world the Tokugawa had spawned through their harsh laws. She would emerge a patterned sheet of silk, no longer soft and unblemished as she had been._

_"Fate requires that Yamabe women must become priestesses," Kinu told him sadly, watching as he tipped back a saucer of sake. She thought on this for a while, before realising there was one way she could make her escape from this fate._

_Onimaru would not like it._

_His response was to down the bottle of sake in one glug, the delicate saucer long forgotten._

Kinu travelled westwards to the branch family of the Yamada Clan's home, in search of her relative, Mitsuhiko. This had been one of the few scenes Kyoko filmed on location rather than in a studio, a minivan transporting her from the set to a rural suburb of Tokyo; the Chiba landscapes substituted for the sacred mountainside. A talented CGI designer would later insert the ever-encroaching structures of Edo, as it spilled outwards as Kinu walked, seeming to creep upon her as she moved away from one line of fate to another. Mitsuhiko bade her to stay, rather than renounce her home and become a priestess in the bowels of Edo _._

_Unknown to Kinu, her father had been shot down in attempting to stop an armed group of men travelling from Edo from crossing the sacred mountain. Onimaru would become the master of their home until Kinu's older brother returned from whatever business he had in the city, yet she had already signed herself away to another._

_"You would leave us?" Onimaru growled. "I curse you!"_

_"I curse you that you will never cease loving me," Kinu snarled back, her eyes hardened granite chips- **(1)**_

"CUT!" O'Hara bellowed.

* * *

**(1)** **These lines are taken from the subtitles of the film Arashi ga Oka**

 


	7. Shame

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**7| Shame**

* * *

For the first time since they had begun shooting, one of Kyoko and Hidehito's scenes had been flagged as a NG.

"What happened up there? Every scene you've had together has gone so smoothly before now," Director O'Hara stated with a perplexed frown. Kyoko hung her head, shame-faced.

"Please, let me try again," She begged of both Directors, clasping her hands together. "It wasn't Kijima-san's fault, but mine. I'm having difficulty with the emotions in this scene-"

"Say no more, Kyoko-san," Director Ogata told her gently. "Do you need some time to work through this, such as Tsuruga-san as he struggled with Katsuki?"

Kyoko bit her lip unsurely. She wasn't sure how she could work past this at all. Kinu stirred inside of her; she knew what was to follow in the script, and took great relish in battling Kyoko's control. Kyoko, however, became flustered and unsteady whenever she thought about… about-

Heat crawled into her face, a bright red flush working its way down her neck. About half of the crew and her fellow actors were staring in confusion at the pair of them, but she knew it was her own blunder that had caused the NG.

Hidehito saw this as his cue to intervene; "We could try again in a minute or so, if there's time on the schedule. If it doesn't happen then, can the filming be re-worked around this point?"

Both Director's studied their scripts and schedules; "I don't see why not," O'Hara agreed. "We have some time before pick-ups to do re-takes."

Kyoko's shoulders sagged with relief. She had at least two weeks to shape herself. She could do a lot in that time; it had only taken her one night to bring Natsu to life, and the span of a haircut and dye-job for Mio. What she had to do up on that stage, as Kinu… it frightened her.

"Okay then," Director Ogata chimed, clapping his hands lightly. "Everyone into position."

Numbly, Kyoko took Kijima-san's proffered arm and allowed him to lead her to the set. Tatami mats covered the raised stage they would act upon. Glistening golden shoji screens, littered with obscure inky drawings of what appeared to be mythical serpents curling in mist enclosed the space. A lone, lit candle flickered.

"Action!"

_Onimaru grabbed for her as she fiddled with the ties of her Obi. Her ceremonial yukata slipped to reveal her thin shoulders._

_They stared at one another, foreheads pressed together, eyes level, noses touching. Onimaru opened his mouth wide, surging forwards, intending to devour her-_

Kyoko's hands shook.

"CUT!"

Hidehito startled away from her as Kyoko shook, embarrassed. He lifted the fallen yukata from the tatami mat and wrapped it firmly around her. Mumbles surfaced around the set, and Kyoko tucked her chin into her chest as she scrabbled to fasten the yukata.

She was escorted by Hidehito to the costume department's changing cubicles, before he left her to mope in peace. Embarrassed and bewildered tears sneaked down her face. Deep down inside, Kinu snarled and thrashed at being denied the tactile pleasure from Onimaru, the character turning her fury on Kyoko who huddled and trembled.

She couldn't do it.

Kijima-san had looked so convincing; his eyes had lit up as he advanced towards her assuredly in the tiny, enclosed set space. The golden shoji screens bronzed his purposely tanned skin. The whites of his eyes stood boldly against dark, dilated pupils. Kyoko had gulped when he lay his forehead to hers, locking her into his act. She never thought anyone other than Tsuruga-san could trap her in such a cruel manner, but she had been wrong. He dived in, and her hands had trembled. Until that moment, Kinu had been locked away and she had been acting solely with the patient guise of her Ojou-sama persona. Onimaru had drew closer, swept his way past her feeble defences, and Kyoko had faltered. Only her back had been bared to the cameras to save most of her modesty. The fallen yukata and her wig covered her lap and her breasts too, yet it felt as though she had been stripped from her clothing for the whole world to see.

She scrubbed at her skin with her nails before dressing into her usual clothing, unpinning her styled black wig from her head as best as she could before carefully removing it from her head.

Hidehito returned shortly after he'd left, having discussed the proposal of him taking Kyoko home for the day and allowing them to move on with other scenes in the meantime. Both Director's agreed that she wasn't quite ready for such an intimate scene between Onimaru and Kinu yet. Caught up in her brilliant acting, they had forgotten that Kyoko was still inexperience with many aspects of drama.

He tapped on the changing cubicle's door with his knuckles gently.

"Are you alright, Kyoko-san?"

A sniffle sounded from within, accompanied by a wave of pure melancholy that rose goose bumps on Hidehito's arms and neck.

"Ah… Would you like for me to take you home? Director's Ogata and O'Hara have agreed to give you some time before we try this scene again-"

The flimsy lock on the cubicle's door slid back, revealing a dry and puffy eyed Kyoko. She nodded wordlessly, and went to collect her bag while a member of the costume department stored her wig and yukata away. Kijima collected his things, and lead Kyoko to his car where he had parked it outside of the studio. He'd been worried to leave it there that morning, having witnessed a security guard of the studio trying to wrangle one avid photographer out of the barrier enclosing the front entrance. The guard assured him that everything was under control, but Hidehito knew from experience that camera men would do anything for the latest scoop or an incriminating shot. The level of their tenacity frightened him.

It was a beastly thing, Kyoko noted, unlike Tsuruga-san's sleek sports car. If Tsuruga-san's car was leonine in shape and speed, then Kijima-san's was as sharp and fierce as a Siberian Husky; larger, more powerful, and wickedly quick with some encouragement from the driver. It made Tsuruga-san's car pale in comparison. Kyoko shook her head; why was she comparing their car's when he should be chastising her own poor acting skills?

He ushered her into the passenger side's front seat, and she pulled the seat belt across her. The seats nearly encompassed her, wrapping around her frame and pulling her close to the cold, smooth leather interior. Kijima turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life, shuddering Kyoko's whole frame. The quiet mumble of the radio was quickly silenced as Hidehito turned to face her.

"You're still struggling with the love thing then?" He asked, almost judgementally.

Kyoko burst into a fresh seat of tears.

"I c-can't do it! I'm so afraid-" She cried, swiping at her eyes.

"What are you afraid of?" Hidehito pressed, leaning across the centre consol.

"Everything!" Kyoko snapped suddenly, her eyes wide. Hidehito reared back, shocked. Kyoko hung her head; "How can I allow myself to act when I can't feel properly anyway? I have no experience and I can't be convincing if I can't l-love-"

A single, sly thought crossed Kijima Hidehito's mind. He smirked, leaning towards her once more, dipping his head level with her right ear; "You're an actress, do what you do best."

Kyoko stared up at him through her fringe as he leant back slightly, though he was still unnervingly close. "What do I do best, Kijima-san?"

"Respond. Match me- no, fight me! Learn from your experience," He replied, the corners of his lips tugging up in a rakish smile.

Before she could react, his lips were upon hers. Inside Kyoko's mind, Kinu screeched triumphantly, knocking back Natsu, Mio, Kyoko's grudges and the Ojou-sama persona while they tried to restrain her. She scrabbled her way towards the box in which Kyoko had sealed her heart away in, and wrenched away the final few tenuous locks.

 


	8. Scandal

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**8| Scandal**

* * *

_Kinu had been confined to her own private chambers for the latter part of her pregnancy. It was a similar style to the hut she had been shoved into by her maid as she experienced her first cycles. A thickly woven rope hung down from the ceiling, which she could tug and bite into as the contractions seized her body._

_She had fallen pregnant shortly after her marriage to Mitsuhiko. Hidemaru had returned to their house on the eastern side of the mountain, with his wife, Shino, and their new born son, Yoshimaru._

_Hidemaru had not been inside the house for five minutes before Onimaru stalked past him, tacked up his horse, and rode away. It was the last anyone saw of him._

Kyoko felt slightly nauseous. The prosthetic baby bump strapped to her stomach beneath a thin yukata, constructed from lightweight foam, elicited strange feelings from within her. Was this how her mother had felt when pregnant with her? Kyoko knew this wasn't a true scenario, but the added weight, the cumbersome swell of her stomach… it drove home a harsh reality that without the chains and padlocks defending the chest- in which no longer lay her fragile heart but a few grudges who had been sucked in during the exchange, this may well be her one day. With a real child of course, not the prop she was supposed to give birth to; panting and wan, while the actress playing Shino pet her skin with a damp cloth and preached to her Shino's lines of how this is a woman's- a mother's duty.

This was another thing the acting academy at LME hadn't prepared her for, and Kyoko had found herself awkwardly asking the Okami of Darumaya whether she had any knowledge of childbirth. The Taisho had nearly dropped his knife in horror from what he had overheard, eavesdropping from the kitchen as the two women served the restaurant goers. Kyoko, having explained red-faced for why she needed this knowledge, had come to learn that the couple could not have children of their own- despite lack of trying. The Okami had kept many pamphlets and books she had picked up to help her along with her pregnancy, and while she had never given birth to a child, she kept the books. They served as a hurtful reminder, but she could not bear to throw them away.

The actress playing the maid would occasionally flip open the yukata out of shot, take a good look at the skin tight, flesh-coloured shorts Kyoko was wearing underneath, nod sagely at the prop, scale replica baby Kyoko had squeezed between her legs (which would be exchanged for a real new-born in the following scenes), and then fold the yukata back. Every thirty seconds of screen time in that scene, before the birthing cue was given, this would repeat. It took nearly everything the three actresses had not to burst out laughing at the absurdity of the act.

_Kinu flopped to the ground as the maid took her child away, smacking the babe sharply to stimulate its breathing._

_Kyoko, and Kinu, had given birth to a scale-replica prop of a baby girl._

The scene ended there, with both Director's agreeing that motherhood suited Kyoko. Kijima Hidehito could never quite meet Kyoko's eyes these days, and any sight of the prosthetic baby bump coming on set had him clear of her presence.

They hadn't shared a scene for a while, and it was easy to avoid one another. It was like a well-choreographed and practiced dance. The two performed it well.

_Shino extended her congratulations to Mitsuhiko on the birth of a baby girl. The child was presented to him by one maid, while another attended to Lady Kinu's health. Like her namesake, the child was an exact replica of her mother._

_But Lady Kinu would weaken while her child thrived._

_Shino bade them goodbye, ignoring the offers of her to stay for a while and to not traverse the treacherous route to her home. Her guide, an attendant of her husband, became overwhelmed as bandits swarmed around them. Shino was carried away by the group of feral, desperate men while the attendant fled to fetch help._

_He would return too late to warm Lord Hidemaru of his wife's fate._

_Hidemaru would ride out to find how they had smeared his wife into the mountainside. Her few belongings she had travelled with had been stolen, her clothing ripped to bare her broken, abused body with limbs that lay at unnatural angles from how they had rolled her carcass off a precipice. The part of Hidemaru that felt any compassion and restraint fell and died with Shino that day._

The actor and actress that respectively played Hidemaru and Shino had struck up quite the accord on set. The two harmonised both on screen and off; when the clapperboard sounded, they made a dignified Lord and Lady, though between said takes they were the best of friends and each enjoyed the other's company. The emotions flying on-set were real, the screams of his grief convincing to the camera lens.

Shino's last scene had them all in tears. This would be the last time that character would appear on set, unless for pick-ups and retakes. Hidemaru's actor would leave the following day.

But it was the actress of Tae who stole Kyoko's attention often. In character, she would prowl confidently around Onimaru, taunting him to the point of pushing her luck. She had no qualms of her sexuality, and here Kyoko felt envy bubble in her chest. If only she could do the same as Kinu.

They were so very close to wrapping the film, with only a few major scenes left to capture. Kyoko busied herself with reinventing her Kinu; younger, more stubborn this time, and blunter than her mother. The elder Kinu had been locked away by Kyoko's personas in the very box she had opened- the heart having been removed and placed under the nurturing care of Kyoko's grudges. The damage had still been done though.

Young Kinu was a breath of fresh air; she was playful, like Kuon had been when she acted as Hizuri Kuu's son. She could be just as sharp as her mother, but lacked the elder woman's sly mind. Kyoko had been asked to take on the role of Kinu's only child, as the budget simply wouldn't stretch to recruit a younger actor. As she had played Lady Kinu in her youth, Kyoko believed that her demeaner, posture, movements and costume would convey that she was a completely different character altogether. She'd even tweaked the tone of her voice. Young Kinu was assertive; freedom had been a given with Mitsuhiko as her father. He would not restrain her as her mother had been in her youth.

Kyoko had been getting to know who she would act alongside as Young Kinu. The teen who would be playing Yoshimaru, the son of Hidermaru and Shino- who had been cast out and forced to work as a servant by Onimaru after the pathetic death of Hidemaru. Onimaru had brought Hidemaru home in a drunken and beaten stupor, after villagers settled in Edo had turned upon the 'Lord of the Mountain'. Hidemaru had succumbed to his injuries, and his son found himself in a very lonely and dangerous situation. Onimaru, having found favour with the Shogun, took the mantle of Lord of the Mountain.

The actor was a little like Hikaru-san, from Bridge Rock, Kyoko realised with a smile. While a little more reserved than the co-host of the chat show, Yoshimaru's actor was friendly enough, and Kyoko found a little solace in that. Her time acting with him was scant, and mainly with Kijima-san on the set too. Yoshimaru and Onimaru's confrontation was a gruelling sword sequence, and Kyoko marvelled at how both actors could swing a katana at one another thanks to some preparatory training.

The time had come, however, for Kyoko to confront the scene she had been having such trouble with a few weeks prior. Feeling as though she needed more guidance, she sought out her acting coach at LME. She daren't ask for Moko-san's help, let along Tsuruga-san's! Asking the acting coach would be difficult enough. Before she could embark on finding her coach though, an angry pink overall-wearing person near flattened her to the ground. Falling backwards, Kyoko landed with a thump on her rear with Moko-san threateningly towering over her. Whispers filled LME's lobby as bystanders watched the pair intently.

Kyoko grimaced, feeling tears starting to form. Kotonami Kanae wasn't happy with her at all, she'd become a spectacle again, and Kyoko had a feeling she knew why. Taking the role without talking to her self-proclaimed best friend first-

Moko-san growled and thrust a magazine article in Kyoko's face, the jagged edges indicating that she had ripped it hastily from what she had been reading.

"Explain," She snapped, flapping the article about commandingly. Kyoko studied the torn piece of magazine carefully with a curious tilt of her head. The image domineering the majority of the page was dark and grainy, but one lone light source illuminated her brilliant orange hair and clothes, seated on the passenger side of a car. A shadowed figure of a man leant over her, maddeningly close to her lips.

Kyoko snatched the glossy paper from Kanae's fist with enough force to rip it. The top of the photo remained clutched in the second LoveMe member's fingertips as Kyoko hurriedly read the headline and speculative story below. It was pure fiction, with the writer not being able to dig up the owner of the car's name by tracing the registration, as this could not be disclosed as public information by the prefectural government. The article went on to imply that Kyoko's illicit man in this scandal could be none other than Tsuruga Ren, her mentor and fellow LME actor, as she was not as familiar with anyone else and the outline vaguely matched his.

Kyoko's vision swam, and Kanae blanched. She swept her friend up from the floor and whisked her away to the LoveMe staffroom. Sat quietly on one of the plush sofas was Director Lory's assistant. He rose silently, bowing to the two LoveMe members.

"Mogami-san, Director Takarada wishes to speak with you immediately."

For the second time in a fortnight, Mogami Kyoko blacked out in pure horror.

* * *

Hidehito had discovered that Kyoko had a good arm on her, and that he had an even greater stinging red handprint directly over his left cheekbone.

He drove her home in silence, and intermittently, she would almost silently lisp out a direction for him to take. Eventually, he pulled to a stop outside of a small restaurant, his headlights beaming into the distance. An older man in chef's clothing and an apron wrapped firmly around his waist stood on the doorstep expectantly, toying with a wickedly sharp kitchen knife as he peered inside the car.

Kyoko timidly thanked him for the lift, not daring to meet Hidehito's eyes.

She bowed after closing the car door and scurried past the man waiting by the doorway; the latter narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Kijima, whirling the knife expertly between his fingers, before turning on his heel to follow Kyoko inside. Hidehito sat behind the wheel of his rumbling car, amused at the man's protectivity of Kyoko and with a healthy fear for his life.

* * *

_Tae, sister of Mistuhiko, regretted ever setting foot in the eastern house. She had journeyed to wed Onimaru and to end the discord betweent he eastern and west houses. She had remained a simple slave to the new Lord, whose eyes and heart only sought the long dead Lady Kinu._

_Tae had been shunned, mocked, and pushed aside for the excavated coffin and corpse of her brother's wife. Onimaru was obsessed with her sister in law, who's weak constitution after childbirth had never improved. She had died, asking of her beastly step brother- deluded that said man waited on the strong winds thrashing against the window, and beckoned her with converging storm clouds._

_So Tae had lashed out, and paid the price for chastising him for his mania._

_Beaten and defiled, she vowed to never Onimaru exploit her body ever again to fulfil his desire for another._

_The same plain yukata she had worn before he had forcefully unwrapped from her frame, served to cover her while she wandered to the eastern house's front gates. Once removed, she looped the obi sash once keeping the yukata fastened over the tori-style arch and knotted the ends together. Then, she climbed the latticework of the giant gates._

_They would find her swinging gently in the morning mists, serene after knowing she had finally escaped the stormy hills._

_Onimaru would not grieve. His sights were firmly set on Kinu, and Kinu alone. He would seek her until the end of his time, and perhaps beyond._

 


	9. Byronic

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**9| Byronic**

* * *

"We do not know how this has happened, Mogami-kun," Director Lory stated seriously, clasping his hands under his chin as he rested his elbows on his desk. "But might I add that I am incredibly proud of you and Ren-"

Kyoko shrieked, rapidly shaking her head and slashing her arms out wildly. _Why would he assume that- that she a-and Ren!?_

Lory Takarada's eyes were bulging out his head in shock; "My apologies, I… well, I thought…" He pouted, "It really wasn't Ren?"

"N-no Sir," Kyoko stuttered, feeling heat rise into her cheeks. Kanae and the assistant- whom Kyoko had dubbed 'Sebastian' in her mind, watched on with morbid fascination.

"Then?"

"I'd rather not say, S-sir," Kyoko had flushed from what felt like the top of her head to the tips of her toes. No part of her was saved from this mortification- and for it to be published in the news!

_How lowly must they think of me_ , she thought. _Tsuruga-san is going to kill me for being unprofessional about it!_

Kyoko turned stone-cold in horror.

Lory stared at her probingly for a moment, but chose not to press the young actress. Even if it wasn't Ren she had been cavorting with, he couldn't help but feel the relief that Kyoko was moving away from her revenge-orientated, and into the embrace of romance. His laughable LoveME section could change lives, after all, despite the early reception it had garnered by other departments. Now he only had to worry about Kotonami and Chiori's futures, for Kyoko was well on the way to a love-filled life.

"Don't worry about a thing, Mogami-kun. We shall sort it," Director Lory assured. With the right amount of legal strong arming, any unflattering article could be corrected and swept into a dark corner. He clapped his hands, dismissing the subject as though they hadn't just been speaking of it; "So, 'Stormy Hills' sounds like an interesting project, Mogami-kun."

Kyoko tittered nervously as Kanae narrowed her eyes at her fellow LoveME member; clearly LoveME #2 wasn't happy about being left out of the loop.

* * *

"Why are you brooding out here, Kijima-san?" Director Ogata asked, watching the actor release curls of smoke from his mouth from the drag of the cigarette he had just taken. Without knowing it, Kijima Hidehito had become Heathcliff, and their own resident Cathy- Kyoko, had him turning in ever-confusing, dizzying circles for some time. What amused Ogata more, was the fact that Kyoko had no idea of the effect she had on him. Kijima was a perpetual flirt and notorious bachelor; it would take an incredible woman to wrangle him into a relationship, and feasibly Kyoko would be the one to do it.

Edgar Linton, or rather, Mitsuhiko, stood between them. Tsuruga Ren had monopolised Kyoko's attention for the most part as her trusted and respected senpai. But Tsuruga-san was weak hearted, as shown by his inability to capture Katsuki as they started shooting the scenes between said character and Mizuki for Dark Moon. He had been able to pull it off eventually, but Ogata could tell and act from real emotion. Kyoko was very much the same, having struggled to commit to a rather intimate scene between Onimaru and Kinu.

"I don't know," Hidehito replied, shifting on his feet.

"I think you do," Ogata stated. In his hand was a rolled up, trashy magazine. Hidehito knew exactly which magazine it was; it was the same one his manager had lobbed at his head that morning, demanding to know what was going on. Hidehito could only watch coldly as the manager raved at him, knowing that while he had made a mistake and that Kyoko had been implicated in this, the article was pure speculation. There was only one thing that bothered him however… "Do you feel threatened by Tsuruga-kun?"

"No," Kijima bit harshly.

Director Ogata hummed; "I would be, he's very attractive after all…"

Hidehito looked at him strangely; "I'm married," Ogata confirmed, as though this made sense.

Hidehito shook his head.

"The fact remains," Director Ogata continued, "That you are feeling slighted by this article. Kyoko is a brilliant young woman-"

"Don't I know it, she's been leading me," Hidehito interjected, huffing.

"Not for a while now. You're pushing back, and it's incredible to watch." They shared a silence. Hidehito dropped the butt of his cigarette onto the floor and ground it under his foot. Director Ogata bit his lip; "A-are you going to pick that up?"

Hidehito frowned, but gathered the flattened end of his cigarette lightly in his fingertips with only a slight, disgusted curl of his lips.

"You get on well, and balance one another out," Ogata nodded sagely. His tone was soft, fond; "People wouldn't place Asami and I together, some might say I don't deserve her; yet here we are- and we're very happy."

* * *

_Young Kinu knelt before her uncle, the latter now cleaned of her father's blood. In his plot to take all that had been denied of him by Hidemaru and Mitsuhiko, Onimaru had decided that death would be a fitting punishment. She carefully undid a set of strings and coverings wrapped around a small wooden box. Inside lay an oval mirror, which she took from the gift box with timid hands._

_"This was my mother's, wasn't it?" Kinu asked._

_Onimaru said nothing._

_She re-wrapped the precious mirror carefully._

* * *

Kyoko tried her best to avoid Tsuruga-san around LME until it was time for her to book it to the studios they were filming Stormy Hills in. Her plan had worked well so far, until an observant Yashiro-san had spotted her from across the lobby as she made her escape, hunching down as though to ignore their fast approach. Dragging a bemused Tsuruga-san along with him, they cornered her in a pincer maneuverer.

"I thought we were past ignoring each other, Mogami-san," Tsurugan-san said disappointedly. His following smile could crack marble. Kyoko felt her mouth pop open in terror, and she stuttered to respond.

"Uh- ah, I'm l-late for my next appointment of the day. I've got quite a way to travel," She told them, in the hopes that they would simply let her go.

"Could we offer you a lift?" Yashiro asked slyly. "Ren has somewhere he needs to be as well, and it would be no trouble Right, Ren?"

Tsuruga Ren stonily agreed.

So came to pass the second most awkward car ride in Mogami Kyoko's life. Yashiro would feign pleasantries to try and diffuse the oppressive tension between the two actors sat in the front seats of Ren's car. Hushed directions would be given to Ren as Kyoko occasionally glanced up from her bag, which she had set in her lap. She had been exercising her x-ray vision by visualising every mortal thing she had hidden in there should she need it. So far, all she could see was the white and blue exterior, and how the handles had folded across the top of it. Ren had not yet uttered a word, and they were very close to the Studio gates now.

Luckily, no paparazzi had congregated by the entrance. Director Lory's… very persuasive legal team had dissuaded them from taking further pictures of Kyoko and her mystery man.

"I read a very interesting article this morning," Ren said suddenly, jolting Kyoko from her distracted unease.

She tittered fretfully, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand and discreetly unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her bag with the other. "I-is that so?"

Kyoko grabbed for the door handle and rocketed out of the car before he could stop her; " _I'msorryTsuruga-sanbutI'mverylate!_ " She said in a rush, dashing past the entrance guard towards the Stormy Hills studio quick enough to leave a dust trail.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Yashiro piped up from the cramped backseat of Ren's car. "Kyoko-chan is frighteningly quick on her feet."

* * *

Kijima Hidehito's head snapped up from his script inhumanly quick as Director O'Hara welcomed Kyoko into the studio. The latter was quickly ushered into costume and makeup, with Hidehito not far behind as he was prepped for his final scene.

He had recently finished filming on location for Onimaru as he sadly dragged Kinu's coffin away into the mists surrounding the mountain. The battle scenes with Yoshimaru had been filmed the week before, and he had not seen Kyoko since then. The article had him distancing himself somewhat, and Kyoko's reaction to his kiss had hurt him. He knew that she was shocked and angry, the action had come out of the blue even for him, and he usually took delight in kissing. Deep down however, an irrational part of his pride was wounded.

Director Ogata had been chatting to the head of the costume staff, but excused himself to hand Kyoko a sleek invitation. Hidehito had received one earlier, as it was for the Dark Moon afterparty. Ogata had decided to give those two theirs in person, seeing as he would be interacting with them; all other invitation had been delivered to the actors and actress' respective agencies.

Kyoko thanked the Director with a polite bow, the latter mouthing 'plus one' very forcefully over her folded body to Hidehito, who rose his eyebrows in response.

Director Ogata left them to the mercy of the costume and makeup teams; after changing they were herded into two parallel makeup chairs, and took great pains not to look at one another while the makeup artists rushed to and fro. For five minutes or so, the pair were left alone in their chairs in obdurate silence.

"So," Hidehito drawled, and Kyoko flinched. "Are you ready for today?"

Kyoko shook her head, "I don't really know."

She sighed, tempted to rest her head in her hand but ultimately resisted. If the makeup team discovered she'd ruined her the cosmetics they'd applied, then there would be hell to pay. "I've got Kinu's character sorted, but I can't get over the fact that I feel like I'm losing control of myself…"

"Because you're afraid of your emotion?"

Kyoko scowled at him, "Yes, Kijima-san. I don't feel safe."

Hidehito eyed his invitation to the Dark Moon after party, which he had propped up against his script by a small vanity mirror the makeup artists used. "How are you going to get around the plus one rule for the party then? Most people are required to take a date."

Beneath Kinu's smooth, waxen-faced aesthetic, Kyoko's pallor lost all colour. She ripped at her own invitation, and worried her lower lip between her teeth as she read the innermost contents, thankful that she hadn't had her lip colour applied yet.

"I had a box," Kyoko murmed. Hidehito waited for her to continue patiently. "I had a box that I kept my heart in, figuratively, I mean, in my head. It had nasty things inside it before then, but they were released by Sho. After that I put my heart inside and let the hatred run free. It was chained up tightly, Kijima-san, so that no one could ever hurt me again like he did."

Hidehito could understand, he also wished he could remove himself entirely from Fuwa's presence at the Akatoki Agency; a heavily padlocked box seemed ideal.

"Kinu destroyed all of my defences, and I couldn't do a thing to stop her. I'm scared of changing again!" Kyoko wailed. "So, I locked her away inside of my box and left my heart defenceless."

She failed to add the 'to you' on the end, biting down on her tongue to make sure it did not betray her.

"At the risk of being slapped again," Hidehito began, "What have you got to lose? Eventually there will be a time when you find someone you want to be with, and you'll have to open up. Why not take the opportunity to do that now, and show Fuwa that you are capable of finding someone better than him?"

Kyoko's eyes widened; "I honestly never thought of it that way, Kijima-san. I was consumed by my hatred for him, and single-mindedly followed him into showbiz because what he said to me."

"And what was that?"

Each word she uttered felt like a stab wound or an arrow to the chest, and she counted them off on her fingers; "Plain, no sex-appeal, submissive-"

Hidehito snorted, "Just when I thought I couldn't think any less of him. I presume Tsuruga knows about all of this?" Her shy nod told him everything. As much as it pained him to, Hidehito suggested perhaps asking him to go as her plus one or vice versa.

"He's not very happy with me at the moment…" Ah, the article, Hidehito realised.

"But you'd feel safe with him?"

"Yes," Kyoko answered. "He's my most respected senpai."

_Ouch_ , Hidehito winced internally. That had to hurt right in the unrequited feelings. He smiled welcomingly, "Would you feel safe with me if I took you?"

"You said that you felt safe with me," Kijima repeated as he and Kyoko settled onto the tatami mat flooring of the set. The golden shoji screens had resurfaced once more onto the main set, and enclosed the two inside what would appear on screen as a small, sacred chamber.

"Yes, Kijima-san."

"Even after I-"

"Even then, Kijima-san," Kyoko replied, though her eyes never left the flooring.

Hidehito swallowed. "Will you trust me, on two occasions- and I mean, fully place your trust in me?"

Kyoko thought on this momentarily. The cameras were being set up to roll incredibly soon, so she would have to decide on an answer swiftly. "I believe you told me to think on what I could possibly lose. I will trust you, Kijima-san."

"Call me Hidehito, and first of all, allow me to take you to get pampered before the party."

Kyoko nodded, relenting this time. She hadn't given him a true answer when he'd asked before.

"Second of all…" He hesitated. Kyoko met his eyes warily. "Let Kinu loose."

Panic flitted across her features, and her mouth popped open to protest.

"Trust me," he reassured her, and watched her shoulders lose some of their tension.

Kyoko closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The clapperboard sounded. When she opened them the next time, Kinu was in control:

_"You would leave us?" Onimaru growled. "I curse you!"_

_"I curse you that you will never cease loving me," Kinu snarled back, her eyes hardened granite chips- **(1)**_

_Onimaru lunged for her, ripping at her yukata and sneering into her lips. Kinu snagged her hands into his shaggy mane of hair, pulling and tugging at his mouth fiercely. She writhed and struggled against one another, their clothing falling to the floor, forgotten. They consumed each other, becoming one unanimous soul- where one bled into another. They had known since they were younger that would always be one, as no one understood them as well as they knew each other._

_Her hands were like ice._

_His touch trailed fire across her skin._

_They parted, gasping, their foreheads touching lightly as they knelt. This was a dance for courting birds, synchronized, innate gestures came naturally and brought them ever closer. How would they be able to separate after this? After Kinu had chosen to marry her relative in the hopes of remaining away from Edo?_

_They clashed and scorched each another, different stations, status and lineage, yet they knew they could never truly be parted. Hands caressed each other's faces, bodies close, hearts and souls entwined._

_Onimaru and Kinu were one. Together they were a demon wrapped in silk._

* * *

**(1) These lines are taken from the subtitles of the film _Arashi ga Oka_**

 


	10. Festivity - [END]

 

* * *

**STORMY HILLS**

* * *

**10| Festivity**

* * *

_"He's summoning my mother to him!" Young Kinu cried to Yoshimaru. They had been transporting Lady Kinu's coffin down the mountainside, hoping to rebury her with Kinu's father before leaving the dreaded mountain behind them. The cousins were hoping to make a new life for themselves in the busting streets of Edo, finding it too painful to reside in either the eastern or the western houses._

_Yoshimaru, having severed Onimaru's sword arm and left the man to die on a mountain rage as the latter had succumbed to the legend of Yamabe men transforming into serpents, could not believe his eyes. The horse that had Lady Kinu's coffin strapped to it bolted, fleeing to Onimaru's side. After all they had gone through to oust him from the eastern house and Lordship mantle, and to rescue Lady Kinu's remains, it had all been for nothing._

_Onimaru and Kinu would not be parted._

_Struggling with his beloved Kinu's coffin, Onimaru shambled away. Yoshimaru and Young Kinu observed poignantly as he travelled further away. It wasn't long before the mists shrouding the stormy hills devoured them completely._

* * *

She really was a vision to behold, Hidehito thought smugly to himself, with her long, floating dress sweeping against the floor. Kyoko had allowed him to arrange a pamper session for her at a salon, where the employees had fussed and clucked, squabbled over the best dress and matching pair of shoes to put her in, and plumped for a wig of mesmerising blonde waves instead of styling Kyoko's short hair.

Kijima hadn't minded either way, and Kyoko was happy enough to play dress-up; she'd admitted feeling spoilt for choice, and more than a little like royalty for the attention that was being showered on her appearance. Attention that she never usually received except from a professional standpoint. The costume department of any project an actor or actress was working on liked to be thorough.

Hidehito was stunned at her transformation nevertheless, as Kyoko became a cut and polished diamond splendid enough to be the centre piece of a crown. She normally wowed people with her acting, but he couldn't help but feel that if appearances and her own confidence played a greater part in her life, Kyoko would be breaking hearts left and right while she tried to glue her own back together.

He nearly snorted. Perhaps that day would be soon; Tsuruga hadn't stopped side eying them since they'd traversed through the entrance of the party's venue. Kyoko had taken Hidehito's proffered arm, daintily smiling for the photographer hired to capture the night's memories- which in turn could be vetted for use in the media. He had glibly waved to those who had stopped to stare, a grin stretching his features. Then he had looked to Kyoko, and saw that she too was smiling from enjoyment; a certain gleeful spark danced in her eyes.

Tsuruga Ren was enraged. Cheekily, Hidehito waved directly at him with a mocking smile.

They had mingled with the staff and cast, receiving compliments (some of them positive and others thinly veiled remarks), and exchanged their own comments to those they conversed with. Kyoko excused herself to go and powder her nose, and Hidehito delved into conversation while waiting for her to return.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hidehito saw Tsuruga move conspicuously through the crowds and originally thought nothing of it. Then his brain seemed to click through gears as quickly as his sports car and he hurriedly made an excuse to run and find his date for the night. Weaving his way through the crowds and ducking out of potential conversations to the extent where he could be considered rude, Hidehito rushed to the venue's bathrooms.

Cornered by a large ornamental vase, with her back to the wall was Kyoko; Tsuruga Ren leaning in over her threateningly.

Hidehito could catch a few words uttered in a positively lethal tone; "- you do know what it _means_ when a man buys a woman clothes, Mogami-san?"

Kyoko was quivering. He had her pinned against the wall, caged in by his lean arms so that she couldn't duck away. She couldn't answer for being so frightened. Hidehito clinched his jaw, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists as he strode towards them.

"It means that I'm allowed to treat my precious people," He ground out, one hand grabbing Tsuruga's wrist. "Honestly, you must think all men- especially myself, to be nefarious, Tsuruga."

Ren straightened, affronted, and snatched his arm from Hidehito's wrist. Kyoko moved closer to the latter, her hands seeking his tailored jacket as she tugged herself behind him as though he were a shield. The two men eyed one another, figurative sparks shooting between them as their intense glares met. Kyoko's gown and wig, serving as her armour for the night as she had created a carefree socialite version of Mogami Kyoko to embody, were ineffective without something to deflect those who would wish to tear her confidence apart.

Kijima-san had asked her to trust him, and though she had been regaled with tales of his playboy status, a large portion of her believed in him. Despite being an actor, he didn't hide behind masks; he was forthright, and willing to keep away from scandal- though he was never discreet about what went on in his private life. Notoriety had made him a flirt, but she couldn't help but feel comfortable with his rakish charm. It was as harmless or as meaningful as one made of it.

"So you didn't do this just to be the one to take the clothes off? I know your type-"

"Mm, I like to think I have a little more class than that, Tsuruga. It's Kyoko's choice whether she wants her lovely dress to hit the floor at all, not mine," Hidehito sneered, and Kyoko felt herself redden. "Other than that, no. I wanted to see my co-star embrace her new'y found confidence."

"Co-star?" Tsuruga echoed, and Kyoko wished the luxurious carpet beneath her stilettos would swallow her up and spit her out far far away from the Dark Moon afterparty. Preferably in another country, or another dimension free of her raunchy scene in Stormy Hills if possible.

Kyoko cleared her throat; "Kijima-san and I have been working on a remake of 'Arashi ga Oka' together as the lead characters. Directors Ogata and O'Hara believe it will be ready to be televised in a few months, should post-production go okay."

Ren seemed placated with her answer, nodding and stepping away from the couple. Kyoko willed herself not to release a sigh of relief, having dodged that issue for now. She was sure that he wouldn't allow her to escape LME's lobby in the following days without fully explaining the extent of her project.

Months later, when watching the television premier of Stormy Hills, Tsuruga Ren would rage over the sight of Kijima Hidehito's hands devouring the supple bare skin of Mogami Kyoko as onscreen, Onimaru and Kinu allowed themselves to become ever closer. The cleverly arranged shoji panels the set consisted of masked most of the scene's action, and the camera had focused in on the pattern of a mythical serpent as it penetrated and coiled its body through inky bursts of mist- but it was unmistakeable.

Kinu had given everything to Onimaru.

It was likely that Kyoko would do the same for Hidehtio. The little girl he had known from Kyoto had fallen for someone else, and like Mitsuhiko, Tsuruga Ren had lost although he had initially won.

* * *

**[STORMY HILLS - END]**

* * *

**Author's Note**

* * *

I _really_ love rare pairs, _okay_. So, I indulged myself and wrote this one. Sometimes I really love stories where Ren and Kyoko struggle to get together but have their happily ever after, and other times I'm desperate to read anything but that.

The amount of Kyoko paired with other characters (that also aren't Sho) stories are few, so I decided to create my own addition. Kijima was my first choice; I like that he's the anti-Ren. He's a bit of a cad, but he would be able to show Kyoko how to love herself and others again far better than Ren or Sho in my opinion, even if it wasn't the happily ever after we all know she'll probably end up with.

_Arashi ga Oka_ helped me along the way, as I had planned for Kyoko and Hidehito to act out _Wuthering Heights._ That there was a Japanese "version", so to speak, fell in my favour. I used the two to craft the story. The full movie, in two parts, should be available still to watch on YouTube and it's well worth it. You can tell it belongs to the 80's, but its flipping brutal and weirdly explicit in a way that adaptations of _Wuthering Heights_ have never been for me, even the 2009 version I usually swear by! (Though Tom Hardy plays a cracking Heathcliff~!) You've been warned in advance if you do want to brave watching AgO.

Truthfully, this story turned out a lot more mature and melancholy that I anticipated. I was aiming for a T-rating, but that went down the pan. I didn't really have a happily ever after planned either, so I decided to leave it bittersweet.

My thanks, eternally, to **OnePlotThickens** for their help Beta-ing this story. Honestly, I can't thank them enough. I literally end all of my PM's to them with a thank you. I _need_ to be stopped.

I thank you all for reading this, and don't hesitate to review or PM me what you thought!

-Yuilhan

* * *

**Musical Inspiration**

* * *

"Catherine My Angel" - Ruth Barrett, 'Wuthering Heights OST (2009)'

"Wuthering Heights" – Kate Bush, 'The Kick Inside'

"Broken Machine" - Nothing but Thieves, 'Broken Machine'

"Heathcliff's Revenge" - Ruth Barrett, 'Wuthering Heights OST (2009)'

"Starlight" – The Supreme Lovers, 'Starlight – EP'

"Lovers" – Ruth Barrett, 'Wuthering Heights OST (2009)'

"Eternal Youth" – Rude, 'Eternal Youth'

"Papa Loves Mambo" – Perry Como, 'Pure Gold'

* * *

**Cast  
**

* * *

Catherine Earnshaw/Kinu – Mogami Kyoko

Heathcliff/Onimaru – Kijima Hidehito

Hindley Earnshaw/Hidemaru

Mr Earnshaw/Lord of the Mountain

Francis (Hindley's wife)/Shino

Hareton Earnshaw/Yoshimaru

Edgar Linton/Mitsuhiko

Isabella Linton/Tae

(Young) Catherine Linton/ Young Kinu

* * *

**Bibliography**

* * *

_Arashi ga Oka,_ dir. by Yoshishige Yoshida, (1988)

Bronte, Emily, _Wuthering Heights,_ (London: Penguin Classics, 1847; 2003)

Nakamura, Yoshiki, _Skip Beat,_ (Tokyo: Hakusensha, Viz Media, 2002 – Present)

* * *

**EDIT [10.09.2017]:**  
Shout out to and all of you who reviewed this story during the time I was posting it, especially brennakai, Skeek622 and Felicity Dream! So far today as I prepared to post this, I've been doused by heavy rain, had to play Taxi driver, and have injured my foot by slipping down a staircase. Hopefully Chapter 10 isn't as much as a disaster as I've been at the moment...

 


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